An Exchange of Differences
by Krissy10
Summary: Something goes really, really wrong in respawn.  Rated for language...for now.
1. Chapter 1

It was a hotter than usual. A lot hotter. The wind blew the stale air across the valleys of rock, kicking up small eddies of dust that danced around, gagging unsuspecting BLU team members as they rounded corners. The heat was brutal; both BLU and RED pyros had been ordered off of the battleground earlier in the day, both because they were dehydrating too rapidly in their rubber suits and because their flames had next to no effect on their prey. Everyone was roasting regardless.

The battle timer clicked on, however, heedless to the heat and misery of its minions. BLU Sniper and Engineer alone weathered the heat with some grace; both had experienced hotter days in the dead of winter in their native lands. The rest of BLU, however, looked to be a sorry bunch. Scout was downing BONK!s with such frequency that he had begun to fidget uncontrollably, and Heavy was slumped against a wall a few feet from the capture point, Sacha and his ammo belt laid across his lap. Medic was sprawled not far away, his medi-gun lying uselessly at his side. The demoman had long since passed out from dehydration, and was currently lying unconscious in the respawn room. All in all, everyone thought it best to leave him be. Waking him would be cruel at this point, and no one had the energy to wrestle his scrumpy away.

Soldier was patrolling idly in front of a tunnel, his footfalls echoing across the rock. Though he had been adamant that the battle would go on, the echoes of his footsteps had slowed noticeably as the day wore on. Spy was lounging against a cliff a short distance away from Soldier; his suit jacket and vest had been abandoned much earlier in the day, and his undershirt was unbuttoned nearly halfway down his chest. Soldier kept throwing him condescending glances, as if there was something he should be doing besides trying not to die of heat exhaustion.

What happened next was purely an accident. RED sniper, who was perched in his usual roost, was almost asleep in the heat. There hadn't been anything for him to do, so he had kicked back against some crates, his feet and rifle propped on the windowsill in front of him. As he began to doze, however, there was a loud 'crack!' behind him, and he kicked out, flailing wildly in his attempt to stand and face his attacker. As he struggled to overcome his sleep-induced stupor, the lace of his boot became tangled around the trigger of his rifle. He didn't notice this, however, until he stood, causing the rifle to fire and deliver a loud report.

"Shit!" He murmured, and turned to face his attacker. It was a squirrel.

At the same time that RED sniper was fending off a rabid squirrel, BLU Scout was sprinting towards the pass where Soldier was patrolling. He was tired of sitting around, and the excessive consumption of BONK!s had given him the idea that antagonizing Soldier and Spy would be fun. Unfortunately, he didn't make it to the pass. Instead, the stray bullet from RED Sniper's rifle caught him directly in the temple. His legs folded under him, and he saw the red rock rising to meet him, then black.

"Mmmfph. Fuck." Scout mumbled, his head spinning as he sat up.

"Indeed." Came a voice from behind him."

"Spy?" Scout mumbled, his head in his hands.

"Yep. You couldn't settle for getting killed in a battle that no one's participating in, couldjya? You just had to take me with you. Your head is so fuckin' empty that the bullet traveled straight through you and got me too."

"Huh. Well maybe you shouldn't 'ave been standing around being useless, eh?" Scout spun to glare at the man sitting on the floor behind him.

He was glaring at himself.

"What zeh fuck? Why are you doing zhat?"

"Doing what?"

"You know damn well what! Disguising as me! Stop zhat!"

"I'm not…" Spy froze, hearing his voice for the first time.

"Well? What are you doing, asshole?"

"Shut up! Shut up right now, boy!" Spy growled, except it came out like he was thirteen and his balls hadn't dropped yet, and Scout was talking like he was a thirty-year-old veteran to a pack-a-day habit. Slowly, he turned to look at the boy. Except what he saw was no longer a gangly boy with skinny legs and a patch of peach fuzz on his chin. It was him. Right down to the cold blue eyes and five o'clock shadow peeking under the edges of his balaclava because he had forgone shaving this morning.

"No! This cannot be!" Suddenly, quicker than he had ever moved before, he was on his feet –Scout's feet- and sprinting at his doppleganger.

"Whoa, whoa, what zeh fuck, Frenchie?" Scout shouted holding his gloved hands – Spy's hands – up to protect himself.

"Look at me, boy! Look at you! What tha fuck do you do?"

Scout looked at him oddly, like Spy was some sort of mental patient that he needed to humor, then dropped his gaze to his body. Spy's body.

"What…what zeh fuck 'ave you done to me?" he screamed, except Spy's vocal cords weren't made for screaming and it came out as a low, menacing growl instead.

"What did you do, you fucking spook? Change eet back! I don't want to be you! Ugh, why am I so fucking itchy?" Scout began rummaging under Spy's suit, attempting to scratch an itch under his armpit.

"Stop that! Ya messin' up my suit!"

"What the…why zeh fuck are you so 'airy, man? Shave your armpeets, damn!"

"What? Why tha fuck would you…Oh God, do you shave…Shit!" Spy was withdrawing his hands from Scout's too-big pants, cringing in horror.

"Don't fucking touch me zhere!" Scout yelled.

"Shut up, boy! Okay, okay. Somethin' must have gone wrong in respawn. We will have to die again, that should fix it." The grammatically correct words sounded strange in Scout's obnoxious voice.

"Yes, fine. Kill me, and quickly eef you please!" Scout sat on the floor with his back to Spy, Spy's arms crossed in front of him.

"Okay, okay. What do ya have to…a bat? What the fuck use is that?"

"Give zhat to me!" Scout spun and wrestled the bat away from Spy. Spy was amazed when Scout won the tug-of-war, until he remembered that he was Scout, and therefore weak.

"Fuck. Where do you keep ya gun? Tell me, boy, quickly!"

"In zeh waistband. Do not touch anyzhing else, yes?"

"Ugh. Ya gonna blow yaself up like that one day….though I suppose it wouldn't be a loss for ya to be unable to reproduce."

"What zeh fuck does zhat even mean? Stop making me talk like a fag and shoot me, goddamn eet!"

"Fine, fine."

A shot rang out, and Spy watched his body slump to the floor, dead. A second later, it reappeared not three feet away, screaming.

"Eet didn't work! Eet didn't fucking work! Now what do we do?"

"I…I don't know. Perhaps we should find Medic."

"Merveilleux."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hi guys. Sorry it's taking so long for updates. I actually have quite a lot written, but things just keep getting in the way. I'm in the middle of finals and a degree switch, and my husband left last week for bootcamp. Thanks for understanding and hanging in there with me!

* * *

This really wasn't fair to the Medic. He worked hard to make sure that everyone stayed alive at least, if not reasonably happy, and this was the thanks he got? Two of his least favorite teammates screaming at him?

"…And 'e's so…'airy, Doc! I am deesgusting and eetchy, you've got to 'elp!" Scout's French accent had become even more pronounced now that he was flustered. This was a trait that Spy knew well and fought daily to repress. He snickered as the boy dissolved into unintelligible sobs.

"Ach! Herr Spy! No more, no more, do not mention zhat again, bitte! Now, Herr Scout, explain to me vhat iz happening."

They both started to talk at once.

"Well, ya see Doctor…"

"I don't fucking know what, but 'e…"

"STOP!" Medic yelled, holding his ears. The two stopped talking immediately. It wasn't very often that the Medic got mad enough to shout, but when he did it was usually an indication that some body parts were going to become separated from their owners.

The Medic took a calming breathe through his nose.

"Zhe one of you zhat looks like Scout vill begin again, bitte."

"Yes, so, like I was saying, we got killed at the same time and I respawned as him and he respawned as me. I'm spy. This…this…"

"Branleur?" Scout suggested mildly, while studying Spy's fingernails. He looked vaguely surprised by his outburst.

"Yes! Thank you, boy. This _branleur_ is in my body!" The French word sounded profoundly wrong in Scout's accent.

Scout, meanwhile, still had Spy's face frozen into the picture of surprise.

"_Merde! _Do I speak French? Excellent! _Salope_! _Nique ta mere_!" He shouted with glee.

"Oh God. I can't…I cannot…I no longer speak French? Shit!" Spy cursed, stamping Scout's foot in a fit of childish rage.

"So it would seem, Herr Scou…Ach, I mean Herr Spy.." The Medic's face had brightened so quickly that both of the men took a step back. A jubilant Medic was almost as dangerous as a shouting one.

"He is you, you say, Herr Sc..Herr Spy? You are quite certain? Yes? Zo, from zhis we can guess zhat Scout's mind -no, not his mind, because he does talk like you, and a complete brain transplant vould swap accents and habits as vell as… –I mean to say, Scout's psyche is now residing in your body? Und vice versa?"

"So it would seem." Said Spy sourly, still lamenting his choices for verbal expression being cut by half.

"Sehr, sehr interesting! I vill need to run tests, of course, possibly even perform a lobotomy…"

Both men were backing away quickly now.

"Ah, _non, merci_ _beaucoup, _Doc…"

"Um, we'll just get back to you on that one, Doctor…"

And, as if they had rehearsed it, both men turned and fled.


	3. Don't Hate Me

First of all, this is not an update. Well, not one directly related to the continuation of the plot of this story. Sorry about that. I just wanted to let everybody know that I'm working on finishing this, but the going is pretty tough right now. I'm preparing for a move halfway across the country, switching colleges and majors, and contemplating buying a new car. Also my "i" key is sticking, which at this point I think might be worse than all of those other things. Not that any of that is an excuse for leaving you guys hanging.

My excuse for that, though, is that something about this story isn't sitting right with me. I feel like I'm not hitting the character interactions just right, and that needs to be fixed. I'm also frustrated with my inability to express accents, especially Scout's. That's doubly frustrating because my husband is from the North-East and does a bang-on Boston accent, and he doesn't like my Scout voice.

You may have noticed that I also have a tendency to either rush through stuff using the absolute minimum in reasoning and description (like I feel I've done with the story) or make things tl;dr (like this note = ]). I want to fix that. So forgive me, but I'm going to redo this story, then get it beta-ed. The plot will stay, though, so if you liked where I was going (even if you didn't necessarily like how I was getting there), please, please watch for the update. It won't be long, I promise!

Thanks for hanging in there with me,

Kris


End file.
